


Nothing to Remember

by Clair de Lune (clair_de_lune)



Series: Nothing to Remember [1]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-06
Updated: 2011-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-14 11:18:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/148713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clair_de_lune/pseuds/Clair%20de%20Lune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had a hunch that it was the first time and that it would be the last one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** Michael/Nika, something angsty, at least one kiss.

She had a hunch that it was the first time and that it would be the last one.

She hadn’t wanted the marriage ceremony to be performed by a priest since it wasn’t for real and she was aware of that. Michael might have blinked when she dropped the word ‘judge’, as if it triggered something, but she wouldn’t bet her head on it: he was always polite, nice and totally unreadable to her. Kind smile, smooth features, even voice. Even if he did blink, he didn’t comment or refuse to accommodate her, and told her a judge would be just fine. So a judge it was. In a small, unmemorable room. Just what they needed, right? Nothing to remember.

Still, he wore a smart dark suit, she had a pretty pink dress, an elaborated coiffure, and the ring he would slip on her finger was simple, elegant and probably very expensive. It was one way, like others he’d done, not to make her feel cheap, and it was working: given the circumstances, she felt surprisingly good. She shivered slightly when he took her hand in his and liked that he gripped it just a bit too tight, just a hint of nervousness showing up at last. It was oddly comforting.

The “You may kiss the bride” part was more awkward. She had tried not to think about it and did quite a good job of discarding the issue. She was pretty sure that she had done way worse than kissing her pretense-of-a-husband anyway. Doing a good job, however, meant that she wasn’t braced for it. Never saw coming the way he snaked his arms around her, holding her close and delicately. She thought that it was a show for the judge, for their witnesses, nothing but another element of the package. Something he had wrapped up with the suit, the dress and the platinum ring.

The kiss itself wasn’t a show though: a soft, considerate brush of lips, a tongue fluttering against her mouth and then past her teeth, his embrace tightening around her. It was full and real, betraying gratefulness and connivance, and eventually a bit of lust that she couldn’t help noticing. It made her smile against his lips.

In the end, there was the disturbing sound of someone pointedly clearing his throat to snap them back to reality and they parted. She could see a gleam in Michael’s eyes. He straightened up, murmured a half-hearted apology and took the crisp, white handkerchief the judge handed him, while telling him bluntly, “Lipstick. You’ll need that.”

The kiss had conveyed everything the suit-dress-ring package wouldn’t. It had been the first they ever shared and she had a hunch that it would be the last. Suddenly, very untimely, she started wondering about _what ifs_ and other circumstances and things not to remember.

-End-


End file.
